


Speak Now

by venueska



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Jealous MC, Weddings, runaway groom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venueska/pseuds/venueska
Summary: It’s a gorgeous wedding, isn’t it? It would be a shame if some buried feelings and miscommunications were to resurface and ruin it all…
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie/Main Character (Love Island), Bobby McKenzie/Original Character(s), Bobby McKenzie/Unrevealed
Kudos: 25





	Speak Now

**Author's Note:**

> this was suuuper short and the third fic i ever wrote for litg ! angst with eventual fluff ;) my favorite flavor! enjoy

The rosy air was underwhelming and quaint, but the chatter filled the air in its place as friends and family gathered in groups, introducing themselves and filling the silence with small talk and obligatory oversharing that weddings usually possess. 

You’re torn between the urge to cry and the duty to be happy for them. The bareness of your arm suddenly becomes very real. Taking a shaky breath, you join the conversation taking place between the other ex-islanders, who are casually conversing about the happy couple. Hope stands beside Noah, and you note the crinkle between his brows and the stiffness of her smile.

“I mean, is anyone even surprised they made it this far?” Marisol says, arm looped through Graham’s. Her whole face brightens up when she notices you gingerly approaching the group. “MC! It’s been forever!” She leaves Graham’s side to give you a bear hug.

It has been forever, and you won’t let any of them know that was by design. The guilt that clings to your every skin cell is clawing at your insides again as you choke out a reply.

“It really has! I’ve missed you all so much,” you say, catching your breath for the first time since you stepped off the plane. Being around the islanders again was like releasing the pressure off your ears during a flight or long road trip, with a quick puff of air and a pinch on your nose. Your thoughts were less deafening. The moment you were dreading for months wasn’t so bad. It was eerily kind on your heart for some reason, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t deserve to be here.

“You look incredible, MC.” Priya gives you a warm smile, tugging at her long red ponytail. “As usual,” she adds with a wink.

“Thanks, Priya,” you say, returning the smile.

Rocco wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives it a friendly squeeze. “So! Tell me, what fantastical life did you graciously decide to pull yourself away from to be with us today?”

The ugly truth was that you didn’t have much of a life to return to. You had the money, you had the fame. You just had no one to share it with, and somehow that soiled the meaning of it all.

Instead of admitting that, though, you tell a pretty lie through your teeth.

“Oh, big stuff,” you say, tossing a wink at the group. “Top secret, though. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Keep us updated,” Hope chirps, eyeing you. “You don’t really post much online, so don’t be scared to shoot us a text.”

“Ah, texts,” Rahim sighs, slipping his hands into his pockets and grinning. “Brings back memories.” He looks at you and raises his eyebrows. “But seriously. We were just saying, it feels like you’ve been a million miles from us since we left the villa.”

You risk a sad glance at Bobby, who stands arm-in-arm with his bride-to-be. “It’s true for some of us,” you say, trying not to sound too downcast. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep in touch with you guys.”

The conversation moves along to Rocco’s recent adventures, to Rahim and Jo’s new flat, to Hope and Noah’s first Thanksgiving disaster. You try to stay engaged, but soon excuse yourself for refreshments.

As long as I don’t have to tell him I’m happy for him, you think to yourself. He’s the only one you might not be able to put on a brave face for. Showing up was the most you were capable of. 

“Funny meeting you here,” you hear him quip from behind you. You squeeze your eyes shut, freezing in place, and curse yourself for coming here at all. Bobby’s arms are open for a hug and you can’t resist letting him wrap his arms around you. “Woah, you look great!” he says, and you hush the butterflies in your stomach.

He’s getting married, you chant to yourself as many times as it takes to feel so true it hurts.

“Thanks,” you say, and your smile falters as you realize you don’t know what to say to him now. ‘I’m happy for you’? That would be lying. But if it was what he wanted to hear… You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

“You mind if I steal you away to talk?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. You try to study his face, searching for answers he wasn’t going to give you unless you let him.

Sighing, you give him a small shrug. “Would she be okay with that?”

Bobby’s face falls and he seems slightly offended. You scold yourself for asking. You shake your head before he can answer and say, “Never mind. Yeah, you can. What’s up?”

He hesitates, then directs you toward the hedge maze. “Fancy a stroll?” he says with an uncharacteristically empty smile.

You oblige, and the two of you walk with an awkward amount of space between you, crafted by your own anxiety and loyalty to his fiance you didn’t even know. Your skin felt like it was covered in sand, numbly swinging at your side instead of brushing up against his. He attempted to close the distance as you approached the maze. 

“The big day,” you muse awkwardly. Bobby says nothing, giving you a mild smile. You keep your eyes trained on the trail in front of you, wondering absentmindedly how long you had left in the maze. You notice out of the corner of your eye that he’s staring at you, and the familiar pain in the pit of your stomach makes its debut for the first time in a year. “So, um, what did you need to chat about?”

Bobby tears his eyes off of you, clearing his throat. ‘Yeah, that. I, er… I meant to talk to you before the wedding, but you wouldn’t return my calls. I wasn’t entirely sure you would show up. I had no clues, other than that you RSVP’d.”

Guilt clouds your lungs. You had creatively dodged any calls or texts from the entire cast of Islanders except Chelsea, who had opted not to show up to the wedding. The calling out from Rahim and the other islanders hadn’t stung half as much as it did when it came from Bobby.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mutter, choosing not to ramble on like you were tempted to do. 

“No, it’s fine. I get it. You don’t owe me a call, you don’t even owe me this chat,” he says, and your stomach churns again. He seemed so apologetic. He had no reason to be, because it was you who had ended things with him during the show. “I just needed to get something off my chest because if I’m honest…” He quivers and trails off, shaking his head.

“I do,” you say suddenly, and he looks confused. “I owe you this chat, and those calls back, and so much more. I… should have been honest with you. You were considerate enough to ask me how I was feeling whenever you got the chance and I never clued you in until Gary and I coupled up out of nowhere.”

He shakes his head and gives you a sad smile. “I could never hold that against you,” he says. “Or Gary, for that matter. He had every right to try things on with you as I did, and every reason to want to. I mean, look at you. You’re smoking.”

This time, you can’t help it. Your heart melts at the compliment. You’re sure you must be beet red, and his blush mirrors yours.

“I should have told you things were sparking up between us.” You start to pick at your nail polish, pinching your knuckles and scratching at your palms nervously. “And I totally blew you off when you wanted to chat about it, too. You deserved to be treated so much better than that. I…” Your breath hitches in your throat. You notice how hot your face feels, and you realize you’re crying. He notices too, and laces his fingers through yours to give you a comforting squeeze. “I wanted to treat you better. I still do.” 

As a comfortable silence looms over the two of you, you suddenly become aware of the reason you’re here. It’s his wedding day. His fiancee is somewhere in the crowd, chatting comfortably with his family and friends from Glasgow as if they’ve been friends for years. Your loyalty to this girl you don’t even like takes you by surprise, and you yank your hand out from his.

“I kept trying to call you, even after she proposed,” Bobby says, his eyes tracing over your freckles peeking through your makeup. You’re taken aback, because this is new information. All along you were broken up over the fact he loved this girl enough to propose, but that wasn’t true.

He just loved her enough to say yes.

“It was in front of all of our friends and family. I couldn’t say no, not in front of them. And I figured, I do like her. She’s fantastic. But if you had answered my calls, or agreed to have coffee…” He gestured to his kilt and did a small spin. “I wouldn’t be wearing this today.” He hesitates. “Or maybe I would.” 

It’s not hard to see what he’s getting at. You reach a dead end in the maze and can’t help but feel that’s what you’ve come to in the conversation. You both have no choice but to stop and face each other.

The space from hedge to hedge is plenty spacious, but you both choose to stand inches apart. You can’t help but notice his eyes flicker down toward your lips.

“Tell me the truth,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did you love me?”

Your heartbeat is in your ears now, and your hands are shaking, palms sweating. Your gaze creeps down his cheeks, tracing the freckles until you find his lips. 

All judgment fades out of view. “You want honesty,” you say back, “I think I still do.”

Every second you’re apart is excruciatingly long. Finally, after thousands of little eternities, your lips meet his. He pulls you closer and you place your hands on his face. The kiss is passionate and long, and leaves both of you breathless. You press your foreheads together, almost afraid to look him in the eye. When you do, he give you a sly smirk.

“Your kisses are like fine wine,” says Bobby, tucking a piece of untamed hair behind your ear. “They only get better with age.”

He bends down, presses another kiss to your lips and pulls you in for a hug. 

You savor the feeling of his arms around you, cuddling into his chest to hear his racing heart. The heat and excitement of the moment inspires a reckless thought.

“Run away with me,” you blurt out, looking up at him. You hesitate when he says nothing back. “Would you?”

The silence lasts for mere seconds, but each one makes you more and more frightened of the question. But the love in his eyes doesn’t falter. He just nods, cupping your cheeks with his hands. The romance of the moment is almost magical, but the nearby sound of party-goers is too real. You need to hear it from him, and you search his eyes for an answer. His lips meet your needs, calming your storms with one word.

“Yes.”


End file.
